


Coz the hardest part of this is leaving you

by Yoshiaki



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Don't really know what else to add, M/M, Protective Erik, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 07:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17638628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoshiaki/pseuds/Yoshiaki
Summary: Charles Xavier suffers from blood cancer. His doctor gives him only a couple of months to live and he decides to use that time to find someone challenging enough to play chess with, just one last time.





	Coz the hardest part of this is leaving you

**Author's Note:**

> Me mentor was listening to My Chemical Romance when she heard the song ‘Cancer’. It reminded her of the first story she had ever written in her teens so the song brought all of that back.
> 
> Warning; This is a very sad but inspiring story which I thought Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr would be excellent for. Please, please note that this is a fictional story and it is not related to any events or persons in me life or anyone I know. Me mentor asked me to write something heart wrenching and I hope this is delivered well.
> 
> I also do not own X-Men; First Class or any of its characters. 
> 
> Any grammatical errors are apologized for in advance. Thank You. 
> 
> For Mooi

And as I always say; ‘The Grim Reaper once had a heart’

**~o0o~**

“It’s not fair though!” Raven all but yelled, throwing a tantrum at the doctor who stood at the foot of Charles’ bed, holding a clipboard file and her pen in hand.

  
Charles sighed out tiredly and caught his sister’s flailing arm by the wrist. “Raven calm down, please. Doctor Moira is only doing her job. She is not the one who gave me the cancer and she’s certainly not the one who makes the chemo medicine.”

  
Raven huffed and looked to him, softening her features. Charles was right, doctor Moira wasn’t the cause of his blood cancer, but she still thought that two months left to live was bullshit.

  
“But Charles this is bullshit really,” she argued angrily. Doctor Moira didn’t take offence when a dirty look was directed at her.

  
Charles chuckled and looked to the doctor. “Thank you, Moira. We’ll talk after visiting hours,” he said to her. The young doctor nodded and turned to leave the room, not missing Raven’s angry gaze that would have lit her up on fire on the spot.

  
Charles looked back to his little sister after the doctor left and smiled weakly at her, trying to reassure her without having to say that he was feeling fine right now. “I understand that you’re angry about this, Raven, darling but there is nothing more the good doctor can do. Two months is only a rough estimation measured from the rate the cancer is eating my cells. The chemo only slows it all down but it is still here and I’m still not going to make it even if I live for five months or whatever,” he explained, licking his dry lips.

  
Raven, noticing this, quickly grabbed him a glass of water from the bedside table and handed it over to him. Charles took it eagerly and gulped down the cool liquid, quenching his thirst and reviving his chapped lips in the process.

  
“But it’s not fair, Charles. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be for you,” his sister said after taking the glass from him and placing it back on the table.

  
Charles sighed sadly. Raven was right; it wasn’t fair but there was nothing more he could do. He was dying from blood cancer and he couldn’t even stop it even if he had prepared. It had attacked him out of the blue, two years ago whilst at a conference. He had passed out in the middle of his genetics speech when a blood clot formed around his chest, causing an asthma attack that freaked out the entire room.

  
He had been rushed to the hospital by his three companions at the conference; Logan, Hank and Alex. Charles woke up a while later and he was told that he has blood cancer. It was a devastating blow to hear those words out of the doctor and it was even harder for his friends to process that.

  
Charles fought tooth and nail to conquer it, going for chemo and keeping active. But every time he would get close to a breakthrough, his body would reject the next round of chemo and his confidence took a hit, pushing him to a point where he closed himself off from the world.

  
He left his friends and colleagues to look after the children who studied and lived in his mansion which he had renovated into a school for precocious children. He had graduated at a very young age in Columbia University, receiving a PhD in the study of Genetics and what a joy it was for him.

  
Now he didn’t have any of that joy in his life since the diagnosis and Raven was shooting him worried looks every now and then.

  
“Now,” he said, ignoring her look and settling back onto the pillow, “…did you bring my chess board and pieces?”

  
Raven raised a questioning eyebrow at him before pulling the board out of her satchel and handing it over to him.

  
“Yes, professor I did,” she teased, reaching back into the bag to pull out a small silver case which housed carefully carved chest pieces that Charles had gotten from an old Jewish lady who was selling them for a dollar, just to send her son to school with a good lunch.

  
Charles—at the time—was 22 years old, on his way to class, on a very good day. He did not have any money on him but he had a healthy lunch Raven had made for him. He gave it to the old lady and politely rejected the chess pieces. But the old lady insisted that he take them, trusting Charles to take care of them because he looked like the kind of a person who knew the value of things. Charles accepted them with a polite thank you and had held on to them all of those years, always wondering if the lady’s son had made it well in life.

  
Now here they were, resting on the dark padded foam of the case. Each one was solidly heavy, made from a coppery looking metal that shone nicely under the hospital lighting. Under 13 of each of those pieces, were carved perfectly in detail, the letters ‘LHEEEIKNRSRHR’. The other three had crowns engraved on them. Charles could never figure out what the 13 pieces spelled out but he kept the chess pieces with him, treating them like a prized possession of his collection. They always made him feel some kind of a way and he had never played with them with anyone, somehow feeling like they wouldn’t understand their significance.

  
But now as he held one of them in his hands, he had a feeling that someone worthy would come around and play with him, someone who understood value at a deeper level like he did. Perhaps that person was here at the hospital. Perhaps it would be a visitor or a patient, or a doctor, Charles didn’t know.  
Raven rolled her eyes at his gleeful look that really said ‘my precious’ as he looked at each piece in the case.

  
“Did you bring the flyers too?” he asked, not even looking at her (still admiring his precious).

  
Raven took them out along with her stapler. He then acknowledged her and looked at one, admiring the silver and grey colours. This was not some kiddies’ poster but a significant flyer that had a clear message for anyone who would be interested in reading it;   
Worthy chess opponent needed. Call the number below.

  
“Oh it’s wonderful Raven, thank you,” Charles beamed at the font and design around the flyer. Raven couldn’t help but smile at his child-like excitement. He then asked her to hand the flyers out to anyone and everyone she met and staple the others around the hospital block to get more attention.

  
He only had two months to live and this was the last thing on his bucket list.

  
Surely there had to be a worthy opponent out there somewhere right?

  
*

  
He was late… again.

  
And this time, he knew that he was going to be fired. He could feel it deep in his gut. He sprinted for the elevator after skipping over a fallen broom, but the doors closed at the last second, travelling up to the 9th floor of the ten storey building. He sighed; he was supposed to be going up to the last floor –such a shame.

  
He dashed for the stairs and suddenly slipped, launching right into the air and landing back down on his left hip with a loud smack. The floor was wet, he hadn’t seen the sign yet he was pissed off at the find the person responsible for this wet floor to yell at. Said person was nowhere to be seen.

  
He groggily got up after realizing that nobody was going to help him up and tried to clean his suit off the wet dirty patches on the side of his trousers and elbow. But it was no use, his dark-grey suit was ruined. He ignored the stares he received and dashed for the stairs once more, ignoring his sore hip bone.  
Halfway up the first set of stairs, he heard the elevator ding. Dammit! He couldn’t go back now, he had already pumped himself up about the stairs and he didn’t want to go back down to get intimate with the cold hard floor again.

  
He dashed up the stairs, skipping two to hurry up. His hip was really sore, but he had to get to the 10th floor and he only had about 25 seconds left to make it to his office and pretend he has been there, working.

  
And after seconds of ‘dashing’ he made it to the 10th floor, where the first person he met face-to-face was his boss. Shit! Panting like a dog, he quickly tried to regain his breath. He opened his mouth to explain himself but the man standing before him with the name tag written ‘Shaw’ on it said, “You’re fired Lehnsherr” with a bored expression and Erik Lehnsherr was pushed aside.

  
This was the worst day of his life.

  
He cleared his office out of his personal belongings; grabbing his small pot plant, the picture of his mother, some books he read during lunch time, and stationery. His fellow colleagues watched him from behind their desks. Some were actually happy that he was leaving but of course they wouldn’t dare say it or show it, not while Lehnsherr was still in the building.

  
He soon finished and made his way out, leaving his key with Shaw’s assistant; Emma Frost who smirked at him and waved goodbye when he decided to take the damn elevator down to the ground floor, where he continued to receive looks of shame from everyone.

  
There was nothing he could do to save his job. Sebastian Shaw was a man who looked down on people who were slackers. He considered late-comers to be the worst because every cent counted in his company and one late-comer was always the result of losing millions.

  
“Out of all the days,” Erik muttered to himself as he made his way out of the tax company property. His hip was surely broken by now so he changed direction and headed for the hospital, hoping that it was just a bruise and nothing more.

  
He was looking down at his box of belongings, looking at the picture of his mother who smiled back at him. She was his biggest supporter, his rock and his only family since his abusive father was killed during the war. Erik had worked hard to give her a better life when they moved away from Germany, but she was stabbed to death nine months later for having nothing to give to the bunch of thugs who had seen her with his lunch box earlier.

  
It was a horrific day for Erik because he had enjoyed his chicken mayonnaise sandwich with the bottle of water and an orange. He had later thrown up that food when the police told him about the death of his mother. He was numb for an entire two weeks; even at her funeral which was the worst because he didn’t have relatives to help bury her and so he had buried her with the money meant to pay his school fees, alone. He never finished his degree in accounting but he was lucky enough to get a job at the tax company he was just fired from.

  
This was the end of the line for him. He had nothing to live for. All he has now is last month’s payment in his account and once it is finished, he won’t be able to buy food, clothe himself, or even pay his apartment rent. He was rather thankful though that he didn’t marry and have any children to take care of, because what would he do if he did?

  
He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the pole in front of him. He bumped box first into it, falling back from the force of suddenly stopping and landing on the concrete paving on his buttocks.  
“AH FUCK!” He howled out in pain as his hip was affected first and he cursed this horrible day, wondering if things could get any worse.

  
“Oh gosh, sir, are you okay?!” a young lady asked, running over to him and setting a small stack of papers down next to her feet. She helped put his belongings back into his box and offered him a hand to help him up.

  
“Ah, I’m okay, just clumsy,” Erik replied wincing as he was straightened up carefully. He looked to the young lady who had helped him up and she was quite beautiful. Said lady is gazing back at him with wide eyes, checking him out for any injuries.

  
“I’m fine, really,” Erik insisted, taking his box from her.

  
“You don’t look so fine and from the way you’re standing, I can tell that something hurts,” she said, noticing the small grimace he tried to hide. Erik held a hand up to stop her from touching him. “I’m fine, I was just on my way to the hospital for my check up anyways, so, don’t worry yourself, thank you for helping me though. I’m Erik, by the way.”

  
The young lady smiled and picked up her flyers, handing one to him, then she says, “I’m Raven. And while you’re in there, you should see my older brother Charles Xavier. He’s looking for a chess mate.”   
Erik read the flyer then he looked back at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He wanted to ask if her brother was about to die soon but he thought better of it and instead he replied, “Uh…well, okay. I’ll do that after my check-up. Thank you, Raven.”

  
He now limped into the hospital, placing the flyer in his box and closing it up.

  
Raven continued on down the road handing the flyers out to everyone she encountered. Erik was curious to meet her brother, perhaps the man would really be a challenge and that would actually be enough for him to calm down from the morning he’s had. He shrugged after a while and continued on into the ER, the door automatically opening for him.

  
*

  
Not a single one of everyone in the hospital knew how to play chess. And those who did, were beaten after five moves or less.

  
Charles was rather annoyed at that, wondering if some of the people who came were really there to play or just really see if the great Professor Charles Francis Xavier is really bedridden in the hospital.  
At least the last person left him some cupcakes to have; Dr. Moira. She had flirted with him through the entire game and it had only been 20 seconds. Charles had politely rejected her, stating that he’s gay and she wished him luck in love after checking his pulse and drip before leaving him with the cupcakes. She may have lost both the game and Charles but she was really nice.

  
Charles had played with the plastic pieces with every one of his opponents. None of them had the special aura about him or her to play with the one he valued most. He had a feeling that said person was close by but he couldn’t really put a finger on who it could be.

  
He sighed out and lay back on the fluffy pillows, soaking in the rays of the morning sun blazing through the window on his right side. He was going to be here until the day after tomorrow, so he accepted the boredom and placed the chest board on the small table by his side. He took this quiet time to think about his students back at the mansion and he smiled at some of the memories he had created with them until he was drifting off to sleep when he heard a small but solid knock on his door.

  
Instantly, his heart shot up and he grabbed the small case with the chess pieces. Whoever was behind that door was the one he had been waiting for. He could feel it in his bones and the feeling was exhilarating!

  
“Come in,” he replied loudly, watching the door handle turning. This was it, this was the very moment he had waited for all those years ago. The person on the other side was the one.

  
And the one was a tall, slender with broad shoulders, short ginger hair and a ginger goatee man. He had grey-blue eyes that complimented his almost pale skin and those lips, gosh do they look kissable!   
Charles felt like he was in a dream. He soaked in everything about the man, from the black turtle neck, brown leather jacket, brown slacks and suede-brown chukkas to the way he awkwardly stood half-way into the room. Charles stared at him for a moment until he realized that those perfect lips had moved. The man was saying something, what was he saying?!

  
“Uh… I’m sorry. I must have the wrong room then,” the man said, turning to leave. Charles all but jumped out of the bed, colliding with the man against the door, slamming it shut with his back. He was about neck-length shorter than the man but that was okay, because he could smell his cologne; rich, deep and mixed with the man’s natural musk, or was it all his natural musk.

  
_Oh how he wondered._

  
“You’re the one!” Charles finally said, pulling back to allow the man to breathe. The man’s cheeks were dusted with a shade of red and Charles cleared his throat at that, blushing along.

  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. And I meant you’re the one I had been waiting for.” He explained.

  
“I’m Charles Xavier,” he added, sticking his hand out for the man to take. The man took it and shook it gently, careful not to hurt the patient who stood before him in a hospital gown and his whole naked backside, presented to the long mirror behind him. Charles caught the look in his eyes and looked back.

  
“Oh God!” He gasped, blushing furiously and pinching the gown closed. He backed off to the bed and the ginger man smiled shyly. “I’m Erik Lenhsherr. One of the nurses saw your flyer in my box and thought I was here to challenge you,” he explained himself, standing rather awkwardly at the door. When Charles got over the embarrassing moment, he offered Erik a seat that was placed next to his bed. Erik accepted it but he first opened the door and grabbed something from the ground, bringing it in. Charles raised a curious eyebrow at the box but he didn’t pry as Erik set it down under the chair.

  
“Just a couple of my things from work,” Erik clarified and he settled down on the chair, carefully.

  
Again, Charles raised an eyebrow and this time he had to ask, “Are you okay?” Erik nodded. “Yeah, I just bruised my hip at work. Doctor said I’ll be fine as long as I keep still. I then decided to come on over here, since your sister, Raven—if I recall correctly—helped me up after I bumped into a pole. She handed me your flyer,” Erik answered, lounging back on the chair to accommodate his hip.

  
“Oh you met Raven! That’s wonderful and I’m glad she helped you,” Charles said, getting into bed and grabbing the glass of water by his table and gulping down the contents. Erik waited for him to finish and he asked with a curious tone, “Um—Charles, what are you in for if you don’t mind me asking?”

  
Charles set the empty glass on the table and looked to him with a soft smile. “Blood cancer,” he answered bluntly, grabbing the chess board and silver case. There was no reason for him to lie. “Bone Marrow to be exact,” he added quietly. Erik was silent for a moment then he finally spoke up, “Wow, that’s a lot to take in and it must truly suck. Is that why you’re looking for a chess challenger? Got a bucket list to finish?”

  
Charles looked to him, eyes gleaming. Hearing Erik talk about his condition so lightly was like a breath of fresh air. He was so glad that he had finally found someone who didn’t pity him and say sorry about his condition because there was nothing they could do about it. Erik Lehnsherr was truly the one he had been waiting for.

  
“Yeah, right on the dot, see, I’ll be dead soon so I figured that I should complete the last thing on my list. I’ve always wanted a worthy rival to really keep me on my toes and when you walked in, I just knew that you’re the one. I have these chess pieces which I value. I have never let anyone play with them, because nobody would understand the value of them except the previous owner, myself and you. So, now that you’re here, I can finally take them out!”

  
If he wasn’t feeling tired, he would have waved his hands excitedly as he spoke.

  
Erik grinned and Charles noticed his smile right away, loving it. It reminded him of a shark and he muffled that thought back down, opening the silver case so that the game would begin. He pulled out the first chess piece from the case and Erik gasped out loudly, eyes growing wide.

  
“My King!” he whispered. 

**Author's Note:**

> I think it is best if i end it here for now and see if you hearties like the story. Do not fear leaving a comment, kudos or criticism, for they determine the outcome of the story and I also like hearing from yall.
> 
> Thank you for reading! You are appreciated! - Yoshiaki


End file.
